


What the Tenth Doesn't Know

by RubyFiamma



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 8059, 8059 week, Boys Kissing, Closet Relationship, Day 2 Prompt "After School", Dry Humping, M/M, Sexual References, Sexual Tension, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/pseuds/RubyFiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gokudera isn't sure how to balance being a good right hand man and being in a relationship with the baseball idiot and somewhere something has to give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Tenth Doesn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> 8059 Week  
> Day 2, Prompt "After School"

**What the Tenth Doesn't Know**

* * *

 

It hasn't been long, maybe just shy of a month, that Gokudera has been seeing Yamamoto. They've known each other, of course, for longer and if anyone were to ask Gokudera himself, he can't really explain how all this really happened. It just kinda did.

Nobody knows about them, not even the Tenth, though Gokudera has a sneaking suspicion that Reborn might have caught on to something, and lest not forget his meddling sister who seems to be able to tell these kinds of things by just looking at two people. And because she has some incessant need to be validated, Gokudera's done his best to avoid her more than he usually would.

The plan today wasn't to end up at the Tenth's house, as Gokudera is trying to stay clear of Bianchi _and_ Reborn to avoid possible slip ups, especially because Reborn seems to be in the business of making peoples lives' _hell_ _._ They were supposed to study at Yamamoto's house with the promise of free dinner and snacks but the Tenth was needed at home for something else. Thankfully when Gokudera and the other two made it to the Tenth's, the house was clear of any distractions and nosy nuisances. Now all he had to do was get through the afternoon without giving in to finely honed resistance every time the baseball idiot looked at him like that.

It's been quiet for a while and Gokudera's pleased. He's managed to keep eye contact with Yamamoto down to a minimum and the Tenth seems to be doing well with his homework. But Gokudera should know, Yamamoto isn't the type to stay still for very long, he physically _cannot_ stop fidgeting to save his life. Out of his peripheral, Gokudera can see fluttering movement and when he chances a look, Yamamoto is picking at his black wristband. He doesn't say anything to the other, he doesn't want to disrupt the Tenth's steady stream of concentration, so he returns to his reading until Yamamoto begins tapping his pencil on the edge of his notebook.

"Do you need something?" Gokudera forces through clenched teeth, and it's already too late, the Tenth is looking up from his work, twisting is lips into a wavering line and Yamamoto is laughing like Gokudera's some standup comedian.

"Everything okay, Gokudera-kun? Yamamoto?"

"Of course, Tenth!" is what he quickly replies with, meanwhile Yamamoto's heaving a heavy sigh and stretching over the table in the centre of the Tenth's room.

"I'm bored, Tsuna. Let's take a break." He looks over at Gokudera as he says it, and it infuriates Gokudera because he's pretty sure Yamamoto's taunting him and what's worse is the smile the other wears is blinding bright and it's not _fair_ because everything in him is telling him to lean forward and kiss the smile off Yamamoto's face. But he can't, because the Tenth is here and they've got homework to do and what kind of right hand man would he be if he let the Tenth fail on his watch?

So, "No," is what he says, slamming his fist down the table top out of frustration. It makes the Tenth jump and Gokudera's immediately apologising, scowling at Yamamoto because this is all his stupid fault. "Sorry, Tenth. I just think it'd be best to continue while you have a good flow going. Stopping now will only break the focus you've worked so hard on maintaining this past hour."

"Oh come on, Gokudera!" Yamamoto slings an arm around his shoulder and pulls him too close, makes Gokudera's stomach swoop the instant he catches the earthy scent off of Yamamoto's sweater. "Let's just --"

"Get _off_ me, freak!" Gokudera snaps, pushing Yamamoto as far as his arms can reach and the Tenth's hands fly up in the air in both protest and capitulation.

"Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto! It's fine," he says with a wide smile and drags a hand through his unruly hair. "It's fine, we can finish this up and then take a break. We should grab some ice pops from the convenience store down the street after."

"That's a great idea, Tenth!" Gokudera answers enthusiastically before shooting a glare in Yamamoto's direction. It does nothing to wipe the affectionate and _telling_ smile off the other's face.

The Tenth nods with a smile and Yamamoto is still looking at him, his eyes warm and his mouth falling soft like he's gone into a daze from staring too long. Gokudera has to look away, zero in on the book laid out in front of him but he can't seem to focus, he's rereading the same sentence over and over without absorbing the information. He growls low in the back of his throat, leans back on one hand and tips his head up to the ceiling in an effort to clear his mind. He's drifting off, floating on the silence that fills the space. There's movement and it's then he feels static friction snap across his hand, jolting him awake.

It's Yamamoto's fingers grazing across his knuckles when he snaps his head down to look and then he's whipping his head up to glare daggers in the other's direction. Yamamoto isn't looking at him, but he can see the grin of intention on the other's face. Gokudera's making a sound, not that he means to, something choked and sputtered, lost on the heat flushing his body that snuffs the air out of his lungs.

"Gokudera-kun, are you alright?"

Gokudera turns his attention to the Tenth, tries to reply with _Yes_ _,_ _I'm_ _fine_ _!_ but the words don't leave his mouth in proper order and he's fumbling over sounds and syllables before he can shut his mouth.

"You look really red," the Tenth remarks worriedly. "It is kinda hot in here. I'll go grab us some drinks."

"N-no!" Gokudera stammers, pulling his hand away from Yamamoto's teasing touch. "It's really okay, Tenth, I'm --"

"That's a great idea!" Yamamoto interjects. "I'm pretty thirsty myself, Tsuna!"

"Okay," the Tenth replies with a smile. "I'll be back in a minute." He's getting to his feet and Gokudera's trying to protest, but he's still so embarrassed that he can't even think straight. The Tenth has left the room and for a minute Gokudera stares blankly at the door like he's expecting the Tenth to return without warning.

"Ah," Yamamoto stirs beside him. "I thought he'd never leave."

"You--!" Gokudera sputters, whipping around and reaching out to fist his fingers in the fabric of the other's school sweater. "What the _fuck_?"

"I'm sorry!" Yamamoto laughs, giving way and tipping in too easily. He's inches away from Gokudera's face and Gokudera's eyes are drawn to his mouth like they hold some magnetic pull. "You just look really... distracting sitting there with your hair up. I can't stop thinking about kissing your neck." His mouth drops open, soft in thought and he lifts a finger to Gokudera's throat. "Here," he says brushing the sensitive skin under Gokudera's ear. "And here." Another brush, tentative and slow. "And especially here," he whispers leaning closer, so that the heat of his breath wisps across Gokudera's collarbone and Gokudera's skin is flaring with burning want and with the Tenth gone, there isn't anything stopping Gokudera from relenting, giving in to the sensation knotted deep in his gut and tipping his head to press his lips against the other boy's. The second there's contact, Yamamoto's going lax against his mouth, curling in and setting one hand on Gokudera's hip while the other tangles in Gokudera's hair, slipping off the hair tie and freeing the silver strands to catch at Gokudera's skin.

There's heat surging through his blood, his thoughts are fraying at the edges and Yamamoto's scooting in, his fingers are curling pressure into Gokudera's hip and urging him closer. Gokudera goes, manoeuvring so that he's up on his knees and stretching his legs so that they end up on either side of Yamamoto's hips. Now he's straddling the other's lap and he's pushing past Yamamoto's partially parted lips with his tongue. He licks the inside of the other's mouth, tastes the saccharine sweet on Yamamoto's tongue, and there's a tiny vibration against Gokudera's lips when Yamamoto whimpers as Gokudera grinds friction against the other. It's getting to hot and too easy to get caught up, especially when Yamamoto's hand slides under the hem of his shirt and his fingers start tracing abstract patterns across his spine. It has Gokudera's skin flushing hot, leaving him gasping against Yamamoto's mouth when Yamamoto starts shifting his hips to match Gokudera's rhythm. Yamamoto starts massaging over the hot line of Gokudera's length and the other's fingers are catching the edge of Gokudera's jeans on every upstroke, brushing teasing titillation against his stomach that has Gokudera's limbs quivering with anticipating promise. Their breathing starts to come fast and heavy, and despite embarrassment burning in the back of Gokudera's mind, he can feel heat coiling tight in his gut with the familiar sensation of pre-orgasm build up. It's not the right time or place for this but Gokudera can't stop the irresistible pull he feels towards the other boy or the frenetic energy that short-circuits through his synapses from just a kiss.

Yamamoto takes the opening Gokudera's gives him when Gokudera cants his head to the side, too focused on the heated friction in his jeans to concentrate on anything else, and touches his mouth to the each of the pointed-out places on Gokudera's neck. Yamamoto's running liquid heat over Gokudera's throat, giving sound to pleasure in the form of a moan burning across his tongue and Gokudera can't stop grinding against Yamamoto's hand and it doesn't help that Yamamoto is rocking up to meet him. There's dampness seeping through his restricting boxers, he's grinding hard against the hot shape of Yamamoto's cock and Yamamoto's groaning " _Gokudera_ ," so close to his ear that the other's warm breath settling on his skin gives way to a shudder that sparks electric off each vertebrae on the way down his spine. He wants to reach inside his jeans, set his throbbing cock free to rub friction against Yamamoto's, achieve the skin-to-skin contact he's aching for but somewhere in his lust-addled brain, Gokudera knows this is the _Tenth's_ bedroom and the Tenth is due back any minute. And even though he's so close, Gokudera forces himself back into some semblance of clarity, pulls away from Yamamoto and shoves at his shoulder.

"Stop," he pants, and he can feel his every inch of skin scorching like a bad sunburn. "We have to stop."

"But Gokudera --" His voice is broken, barely an octave below a dry whisper like he's been parched in a desert for days. Yamamoto's eyes are clouded gold and his lips are slick-shined and ruby like crushed berries and the dreamy expression he's wearing is making it hard for Gokudera to breathe. "Gokudera -- I can't. I--"

It's easy to give in when Yamamoto's whine is just shy of a plea, so he resolves with an exhale of resignation that wrings into a groan and dips in again to slot their mouths together. Yamamoto tastes _so_ _good_ _,_ like sugar and sunshine and dangerous addiction and the feel of Yamamoto melting under Gokudera's fingertips is intoxicating all on it's own.

But it's over too soon, because Gokudera is alert enough to hear the Tenth coming up the stairs, and he's shoving Yamamoto away again, scurrying off his lap and back into his position at the corner edge of the table. His skin is flaring hot and his heart is racing, and jeans are just _too_ tight for comfort. He can't look at Yamamoto, not when he can see the face the other is making in his minds eye, not when he knows that is mouth is shaped into a soft pout formed from the loss and his eyes are glazed over with preoccupation.

Gokudera doesn't trust himself to return back to normal, even if he tries his best to put on his best game face, Yamamoto's expression and body language are a dead give away and Gokudera knows that not even he will be able to focus on the remaining lessons with the other boy so close and tempting, not when his cock is straining against the confines of his jeans and certainly not when he can still feel the heat of Yamamoto's breath against his neck or hear the sound of the other boy moaning his name resounding in his ears.

The door is opening and the Tenth is just about to walk in when Gokudera growls, "My place. _Now_ ," under his breath. He doesn't check to see if Yamamoto's heard him, he's quite certain that the other boy will follow him without command anyway.

"I brought some sodas," the Tenth says cheerily as he enters the room with an armful of cans. Gokudera feels guilty for leaving, for putting his own selfish want in front of his duty but what the Tenth doesn't know won't hurt him, Gokudera concludes. He vows to only make room for this kind of decision just this once, but even then he's not sure he can keep up with the promise made to himself.

He coughs to hide his embarrassment, grabs his bag from the floor and begins shoving his books into it. "I'm sorry Tenth, but I uh, um, suddenly not feeling well." It's hurried and hollow even to his own ears and the Tenth isn't the flaky type that will believe such a feeble excuse.

"Wow, Gokudera-kun, you really don't look good! Is -- is that a rash on your skin?" asks the Tenth, his voice shrill with shock.

Gokudera doesn't know how his skin can get any hotter but it does, and he suddenly feels like he's a prime candidate for spontaneous combustion and that he will probably burst into flames at any second. He figures he'd deserve it, he's going to hell anyways for the blasphemous sin he's just committed in the Tenth's bedroom.

"Well, okay. I hope you get that uh... Taken care of. Maybe it's an allergy or something. Have you --"

"I really have to go, Tenth!" Gokudera doesn't look up, doesn't trust his own expression to not sell himself out. "I'm very sorry!"

"Ah, it's really no problem, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto and I --"

"I've got to go too," Yamamoto pipes up and Gokudera can hear him shuffling his papers and note books into his book bag. "I promised the old man I'd help out in the shop! See you at school tomorrow, Tsuna!"

Gokudera's getting to his feet as the Tenth sets the drinks down on the table. He can see the doubt settling on the Tenth's face, he can see the gears in the Tenth's head trying to connect the events leading up to their sudden departures. He notices the way the Tenth's eyes shift from himself to Yamamoto, the way his brow quirks just slightly with suspicion. Call him paranoid, but Gokudera is pretty sure the Tenth has figured it out and if he hasn't yet, he will by the end of the night.

"Uh... Okay then. See you later, Yamamoto," comes the Tenth's dubious reply, and Gokudera throws in "Make sure you do your homework, baseball idiot. Don't go failing all your shit and ending up an embarrassment to the Tenth!"

Yamamoto laughs, adds, "Don't worry, Gokudera! I'm sure I'll manage to get my  assignments complete at some point tonight."

He hears the taunt laced with implications in Yamamoto's tone, and Gokudera's pretty sure the Tenth can hear it too. He doesn't stick around for questions, he just gives the Tenth a quick pat on the shoulder and hurries out of his room before he and Yamamoto make it any more obvious. He's halfway down the stairs when he hears, "See you, Tsuna!" from Yamamoto and he doesn't bother to wait for him. He just hopes the baseball freak is smart enough to head in the direction of his own home and double back through the alley behind the Tenth's house afterwards.

Gokudera's walk is brisk as he heads down the street to his apartment, his heart hammering rapidly with adrenaline, lips still burning with the afterimage of friction, and his blood still lingering warm from this afternoon's activities. He's grinning widely despite feeling guilty for leaving the Tenth, and he finds himself thinking, as Yamamoto comes jogging up the adjacent street well out of view from the Tenth's house with a smile plastered to his face as bright as the sun, it wouldn't be so bad if the events after school were always this exhilarating.


End file.
